


The Unwanted Wish

by Tracker_Lucifer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuaka - Freeform, F/M, Gen, KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, iwaoi - Freeform, major character deaths, there be fighting and some magic and more stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13203312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tracker_Lucifer/pseuds/Tracker_Lucifer
Summary: Some people wished for love, others wished for power. Kenma only wished to get through his exams in peace. He didn’t wish to participate in a ‘honorable battle to the death’ nor did he wanted a suspicious, JRocker looking man following him everywhere he goes. It just goes to show, you don’t always get what you wish for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kuckoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuckoo/gifts).



> A Haikyuu!! Fate!AU that nobody ask for... at least not really. I just want to emphasize there are character deaths, so please tread with caution. 
> 
> I hope everyone have a safe and happy holidays and early new years.
> 
> tracker_lucifer

One could imagine that the history of mages would be a colorful one, and sometimes it was. Afterall, it was difficult not be fascinated by how interwoven it was throughout the early history of human life, to how it was used in the modern era, where technology ruled. Although to be honest, Kenma found Magi History to be a bit dull. Especially, regarding the “Holy Grail War”, a subject that always seemed to make his eyelids feel unusually heavy and his brain groan in dismay. 

The “Holy Grail War” was a subject that was discussed in several classes for many reasons, such as:

1\. It was ingrained in the Magi History as being one of the few moments where the Mage Association and the Church had struck an uncomfortable truce. Mind you, their relationship had never been on steady grounds. There were considerable amount of pages that regaled their tumultuous history throughout the years. So, for there be an event when both sides are willing to cooperate spoke volumes that it could not be ignored. 

2\. Despite the level of research, The Grail was a still a mystery. Its origins were known and could be traced back to a German Magi Family but that was where it ended. There were no information of how the Grail was created or how it behaved. The only thing that was clear, were the rules to the Holy Grail War. Among it, The Grail decided who would be the seven Masters. Those seven Masters were then given a Servant, a familiar, to help them in the battle, but these familiars were not the typical familiars. They were heroes and villains, whose legends immortalized them throughout history. After the seventh Master was selected and given a Servant, the fight would commence and there would be only one winner. That winner would receive a wish of their choosing. 

3\. If that wasn’t attractive enough to keep the subject going, then the fact that it was still active ensured that the Grail Wars would continue to be discuss in the classrooms.

Kenma pinched bridge of his nose, before he slowly opened his eyes to a hand-painted image of a spearman, that took up the entire page. With a sigh, he shut the book and rested back onto his uncomfortable wooden seat. 

“Not as exciting as everyone says?” A young man with sleepy green eyes and expertly tousled hair commented from across the table.

Kenma could only afford him a squint before he turned his head out toward the window next to their table. Outside, he saw students made their way across the impressive courtyard in small droves. Some of them were familiar to him, but most were strangers. He pulled his attention away and took out his phone, then started on his latest fantasy game. “No, it’s not exciting.”

“Why not?” The young man pushed. Normally, Kenma would ignore the person, but this was Akaashi Keiji--one of the few friends that he had--and thus could not be ignored. 

“Because it’s stupid.” His brows furrowed as he started to customize his character. He blindly gestured to the book. “They’re fighting to the death over a wish.”

“Any wish that they desire,” Akaashi added and peered around their secluded area of the library. It was tucked in the far corner away from the louder seats and from any nearby electric sockets. Due to the latter, this table was normally ignored. He withdrew his gaze from the bookshelves that concealed them and focussed back on Kenma. “Or at least that’s what history been hinting at.”

“‘Hinting’ being the keyword.” Kenma emphasized. He chewed on his bottom lip as he typed in ‘Aplepi’ as the character’s name. “Nobody--not the professors or the books--talk about the winners of these wars.”

“After undergoing such an ordeal, I’d imagine their wish is for some peace and quiet.” Akaashi gestured with a hand.

“Maybe,” Kenma slouched in his chair and gave a trying-not-to-be-too-curious glance at him. “What would you wish for, Akaashi?”

Akaashi raised a delicate brow at the question. “What makes you think that I have a wish?”

“Are you saying you don’t have a wish?” Kenma countered and met Akaashi’s steady gaze. They stayed locked onto each other in that small challenging sort of way. It held for three minutes before Akaashi pulled back.

“Hmm…” He hummed to himself and looked thoughtful, as he searched the options in his head. “I’d probably wish to get full marks on my classes and obtain a financially worthy job.” He drawled with a wry smile. “What about you?”

“Sleep.” Kenma replied and dropped his gaze to his phone. Despite how dead it sounded, he was serious. It was finals week, and he was simply exhausted by the back to back essays and tests. He hated putting effort but if he wanted to get out of here he had to put the extra work. At this point he could barely squeeze any time to game and that was just pure agony.

Akaashi’s smile grew just a smidge. “I expect nothing less from you,” 

“It’s good that I met your expectation,” Kenma retorted and paused. His eyes involuntarily darted toward the history book. “I… I have to ask, Akaashi. After you took the course, did your classmates keep talking about it?” 

“Regarding the Holy Grail Wars? Of course,” Akaashi said. “Some still talk about it even now. They can’t help themselves. It’s been years since the last war. The chance of it appearing increases with each passing year.” 

“But they do know the chance of it occurring is slim. It may not even occur in our lifetime.” Kenma stated. “And also there’s no guarantee that the Grail would select them.”

“But the chance is still there.” Akaashi said evenly. “As long as the chance is there, then there’s an opportunity and you know as well as I do, that our school breeds ambition.” 

Especially the ambitions from certain families that Kenma knew all too well. The students--and some professors--called them “The Untouchables”; high class mages whose family line could be found in the history books. Their influence were at an international level and their powers were unrivaled. Every student knew who they were, even though they never met them. Very few got to be part of their groups and the rest best kept their distance and tried not to directly challenge them. Anyone that did, well… it didn’t end well. The last person who did, was expelled from Kenma’s school. Though, there were also rumors that the student was practicing forbidden magic in the library’s storage room too. Both stories had yet to be confirmed, but already stitched themselves into the fabric of his university’s lores.

Kenma knew about them because he involuntarily caught their attention when he received top scores in his classes and was discovered that his bloodline was young. They invited him over to a social gathering which he rebuffed. Apparently, that was something that you were not supposed to do, because ever since then they made things difficult for him. 

“I know.” He whispered between his teeth and distracted himself with his phone. He swiped down on the screen and sighed when he saw the time. “I should go.” 

“Don’t let me keep you.” Akaashi waved him off as Kenma packed up his bag. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

Kenma nodded. He shoved his book in his bag and quickly scurried off with the rest of his classmates. One more class and then he’ll grab dinner and retreat to the dorms. That was the plan at least.

\---

Countries away, rain pitter-pattered over the cobblestone path and smacked against the cracked, crimson smeared windows of an abandoned warehouse. At the center of the warehouse a man stood with a boyish face in a pair of jeans and a dark double breasted forest green trench. His hands were deep in his pockets and his head tilted back as if he was taking a deep breath. Threadlike wisps of hot breath slipped out from between his soft, reddish lips and the corners of his closed eyes twitched. 

It was brief, barely a second but he felt it. It was stronger this time. That distinct tug at his very presence, like a child tugging at their parent’s clothes for attention. 

Slowly, his eyes slid open to reveal deceivingly sweet brown eyes, that would make any woman or man melt beneath their gaze. 

It was time. 

“S...top…!” 

The young man blinked slowly, then lowered his gaze to the sight around him. Cold bodies laid at his feet. Their empty eyes stared to nowhere, dull. Crimson puddles spread across the damp floors, fed by gaping cavities where their heart should have been. Their crosses were discarded, like their owners were. 

A sound of growl lured his gaze from them, and he smiled at the sight. A broken man of the cloth clawed the ground desperately, as a large, black hound dragged him across the floor like a ragged chew toy. 

“Good boy,” He crooned and patted the thick head of his hound before he stepped over the man. “You’re very stubborn, Holy Man. Did you honestly think you can escape me?” He said, watching the fear and hate reflected from the desperate man. 

He grabbed him by the front and hauled him close, so his lips just grazed the edge of his ear. “No one escapes me, just as no one will stop me.” He hissed before he plunged his hand into the Priest’s chest.

Bones snapped upon the impact, blood gushed across his wrist and darkened the already stained sleeves. He grinned coldly down at the man as his fingers wrapped around his prize. With one fluid motion, he wretched the heart from its home. Carelessly, he dropped the corpse and allowed his dog to feast on the remains. He gazed the beating heart in his hand as it squirmed like a creature attempting to escape his grasp. He brought it to his lips and sank his teeth into the warm, wet flesh and tore off a piece, as if it was a juicy apple. 

This wasn’t a mage’s heart but it was still a life force source, at the very least. This would sustain him for the time being, ‘till a much more worthy prey came along. That shouldn’t take too long, not if his assumptions were correct. 

He licked the blood off his lips and smiled a bitter smile. 

He waited far too long to let this opportunity pass. He would not messed this up. He would get his wish. 

“I’m coming, Iwa-chan.”

\---

The full moon hung high in the sky by the time Kenma arrived at his dorm. The test was completed hours ago and the scores were announced. No names were on display, but everyone knew who had the highest score in the class. The Untouchables were not pleased. His initial plans flew out the window into the tree branches, and the rest floated in the courtyard fountain. It was petty and stupid and hurtful but it was also not new for Kenma. If anything, it just reminded him how it was back in high school. He hated high school. 

It took hours to collect all his work and ruined books before he managed to tredge down the hall with a trail of wet footprints into his room. His body ached with bruises and minor burns but he ignored them as he entered his home away from home.

It was a single room--no roommates--with a small twin bed against one wall, a nightstand/shelf next to it and then his desk on the opposite wall. It was nothing special nor extravagant, but it was his safe zone from the marathon of classes and the Untouchables. Without bothering with the main lights, he slid off his wet shoes and walked into the bathroom with soggy socks and a dripping backpack. He laid out his backpack and books over towels before he stripped out of his clothes and entered the shower stall to wash away his stress and frustration. After that, he tended to the bruises, cuts and burns on his arms and replayed the scenes over and over in his head. 

HIs movements were meticulous and patient. It was like a routine, from tending to his injuries to assessing the damages. It was because of the Untouchables, that he never took his laptop to class even though he loathed writing out his notes. A spell can take care handwritten works or printed texts, but were completely useless in repairing broken laptops. 

He sat cross legged against the side of his bed and inspected each and every one of his book with a careful eyes. His fingers slid over the page and whispered to it, “ _Siccum_.” 

A soft glow swallowed the book and forced the water to recede back to its original state, as if it was never floating in the fountain earlier. His golden gaze lifted toward the image of Berserker. Absently, he flipped through each of the pages, till it rested on Lancer. With a sigh, he closed the book and turned his attention to the others. One by one he dried and reviewed them, before moving on. It was only after that did he started on his studies for his next subject and snuck in a few private lessons of Advance Defensive Spells. He did this until his eyes were far too heavy, and had used the last of his strength to drag himself beneath the covers, letting sleep take him away from reality.


	2. Day 1: The Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His throat grew so tight that it became hard to breathe. “No.” His voice cracked, trembling. There had to be a mistake. It **had** to be a mistake but there it was, staring at him in the face. His heart hammered against his ribs like a frightened bird desperately trying to escape it's cage. 
> 
> He didn’t want to die.

It was a few days since the courtyard incident, when a notification was sent to all attending students at 6 A.M., via text and email: Classes were cancelled.

That was unusual, seeing that there were still exams that needed to be completed but none of the students complained. When Kenma saw it, he tossed his phone aside and proceeded to bury himself into the blankets. On days like these, he would had spent it on gaming but with the exams and papers, all of his energy was depleted. He stayed in the warm folds of his comforter as long as he could, before his stomach growled and demanded sweets. Groggily and disoriented, he rolled out of bed and sluggishly put on some appropriate clothes before he shuffled out to the cafeteria. 

Kenma pulled out his phone and dabbled in his game as he blindly navigated through the halls just by the guidance of his stomach. He weaved through the groups and down the hall where the doors were open and the smell of hot food wafted against his nostrils. It was only then did he put away his phone and grabbed a plate instead. There were steaming rice, some grilled fish, vegetables, eggs and more. None of that caught Kenma’s attention. No, his stomach led him away from the initial bulk of the line to the sweet aisles. There, his senses were assaulted with sugar and apples and cinnamons and more. It made his stomach grumble, as his eyes wandered hungrily over the cakes, pastries and pies. 

He reached for a slice of apple pie when he paused. His eyes drifted from the pie to the back of his hand that peeked out from his oversized sleeves. There was a mottled, reddish stain on his skin. His brows furrowed. 

“Are you going to pick anything?” A voice startled him and made him jump in his skin. He timidly glanced over his right shoulder to see a line waiting for him. 

“Sorry,” He whispered and grabbed his pie, chocolate croissant and honeybun before he hurried off to pay. He retreated to the far corner table, next to the window. He set his tray down, tugged his right sleeve up his arm and turned his hand to the light. He rubbed the reddish blemish. It didn’t feel tender like any bruise. It was also too neat to be a smear from a pen or marker… 

“Weird,” He mumbled, then tugged his sleeve back down.

It didn’t seem dire or concerning, so he ignored it and focussed on his sweets. He actually forgot its existence for a good portion of the day, until his eyes drifted from his book to his hand again. Alarm shocked through him when he noticed the blemish was not fading. In fact, it was darkening. Instead of looking like indistinguishable blurs of red, they actually started to take shape.

Panic surged through him as his mind tried to rationalize what was happening. Did one of the Untouchable curse him? He forego his studies on transfiguration to practically ransack his small shelf for Potions and Defensive Arts books. Sadly, all of his attempts were in vain. The image continued to become more distinct with crisp yet delicate lines that formed an almost a feline shape in a tribal fashion that was practically tattooed to the back of his hand. Kenma stared at it long and hard. His mouth grew dry as his blood turned to ice. 

“No…” He whispered as he gazed upon his Command Seal. 

That is what it was, a Command Seal for the Holy Grail War.

His throat grew so tight that it became hard to breathe. “No.” His voice cracked, trembling. There had to be a mistake. It **had** to be a mistake but there it was, staring at him in the face. His heart hammered against his ribs like a frightened bird desperately trying to escape it's cage. 

He didn’t want to die. 

Survival instinct kicked in just then. Without much thought, he grabbed his bag and phone and hurried out of his room to the library. There, he raided the shelves of their contents regarding counter curses or seal breakers. His usual table was filled with piles of books till it became too much that he had to move to the floor. After he received a warning look from the librarian and other patrons, Kenma migrated deeper into the library, away from their scrutinizing gaze. His desperation forego caution, when he unlocked the Library’s storage room.

It smelled musty -- unused for years -- with a thick layer of dust over the floors and the shelves of cleaning supplies. All of room was illuminated by a single bulb that hung overhead at the center of the room. Carelessly, Kenma dumped some of the books onto the ground and went to work. He was unaware of how the dust billowed out from beneath them and revealed an unusual, faded markings. 

His eyes ravenously devoured the text as he raked over every book that spoke of the Grail and seals. Each of them left him with dread. The more he read, the bleaker his future appeared. There were gruesome images of the lengths that these mages would go through to win this stupid battle. Some would had sliced the limb of their opposition to sever the ties with their Servants and others would exceeded that. It disgusted him how honorable they made it portrayed but when it come down to it, it was just a senseless war. 

Kenma tossed the history books aside, and went for textbooks on disenchantment and seal breakers.

He concocted foul tasting potions and casted spells until his voice was hoarse and his throat sore. He scoured his hand and in his desperation he burnt it. His skin sizzled and peel back to reveal the seal on the next layer of skin. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if it etched itself onto his bones. He blinked back the tears and quickly poured a healing agent over his bleeding hand before he wrapped it. 

Nothing was working. The Grail made its decision and chose him. There was no escaping it. 

No, there was a way to escape its hold.

Kenma grabbed one of the history books and flipped to the chapters that covered the Church. There were cases of Mage giving up their Seals to others but did he want to damn someone else? And what would stop them from killing him? If he told the wrong person about this then he’d be killed or lose a limb. 

He shook his head hard that his brain almost rattled in his skull. There was someone he could turn to. He pulled out his phone and dialed the numbers. Kenma pressed it against his ear as he tried desperately to quell his fear, ignoring how his hand ached from the burn. 

The phone rang once, twice and Kenma could feel his growing anxiety bubbled inside of him. “Come on Akaashi…” He hissed to the phone and paced. His injured hand aching from the unorthodox treatment. “Come on!”

“Hello?”Akaashi’s voice sounded oddly alert despite how late it was.

“Akaashi--I know it’s late but… But can I come over?” Kenma asked. He hoped the desperation was not too obvious in his voice. 

There was a paused for a moment. A hesitation, perhaps?

“… Is something wrong? Is it the Untouchables again?” Akaashi’s voice sounded concerned. 

“Ah… No…” Kenma shook his head even though Akaashi couldn’t see it. His eyes went back to his bandaged hand. “It’s--I just need to talk to someone, face to face.” He internally cringed at the tone of his voice. It was awkward, but what could he do? His mind was running a mile a second. 

“All right,” Akaashi replied. “I’ll meet you at the gate or I can meet you at the station.” 

Kenma let out a sigh of relief. “Thank--” 

“Who is that? A friend? A foe?” An excitable voice piped up through the phone. It wasn’t anyone that Kenma recognized. Did Akaashi have a friend over?

“Quiet!...” Akaashi sounded so unamused to the point where Kenma could imagine his friend rubbing his temples in frustration. 

“I can meet you at the gate,” Kenma started, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to interrupt--”

“No, it’s fine.” Akaashi assured. “I’ll see you at the gate.” 

“All right. Thank you,” Kenma said and hung up. He started to clean up his mess. He returned the scattered books to their shelves, mindful of his injured hand. 

It took a few more minutes than he’d like, but eventually, he managed to slip out of the library and back onto the courtyard. He shivered beneath his sweater, and hurried along to the main exit. His eyes constantly darted here and there. This was not the first time he wandered out this late but things were different now. For all he knew, he had a target plastered on his back. The other Masters could be at full force, already hunting people. 

He shook his head furiously from the negative thoughts. There were no time for that. 

Kenma hurried down the sidewalk, across the streets and then down the steps into the station. It was vaguely warmer in the station but not by much. He weaved through the crowd of passing people then headed even deeper. He passed the shops and convenient stores on either sides, and the smell of food from the underground market tickled his nose. Usually, he would drop by there to grab a snack, but food was the farthest from his mind at the moment. 

Kenma peered ahead to see the security station and the platform gate, when a sudden sensation washed over him. He felt goosebumps race down along his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on ends. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to turn around. 

Someone was watching him. 

He stared ahead, toward the security station where an officer was assisting a foreigner. Could he go to them? Kenma pushed the thought back. No, he couldn’t. The officer was only human after all. 

He exhaled softly and stepped away from the platform entrance, towards the stairway that led down to the market below. It was crowded with shoppers. They filled the prepared food section, bars and bakeries to the brim with queues blocking the paths or spilling out of the doors. 

Despite his anxieties, Kenma submerged into the sea of people.

He kept his head down to avoid flailing elbows, tried not to bump into the elderly as he scurried through the crowd. He navigated erratically and unpredictably through the thick mass of people, by either making random turns or squeezed through the queues. Ever so soften, his fingertips would brushed against the corner edges of the stalls or doorways

It was a brief millisecond contact but it was long enough to leave an almost untraceable amount of mana in his wake. He mumbled the spell beneath his breath and felt the warm energy pulsed through his being. This was one of the many spells he taught himself ever since the Untouchables decided to torment him. It acted like a short range motion detector, but instead of motions, it would detect high levels amount of mana--a sign of a mage ready to cast a spell or perhaps a very dangerous familiar from a particular Grail War. 

He made a wide left turn from the fried delights, and into the beginning of the dessert aisle, before he ducked inside of a cream puff store. He ignored the line of noisy teenagers and pressed himself just out of the line of the sight of the main entrance. There he waited. He was so riled up that the scents of the vanilla cream could not settle his anxious nerves. He shut his eyes and focussed on the pulse, waiting to feel any disturbance in the fields to alert him. 

To his surprise, there were none. 

He stayed there, despite looking like a young man who was falling asleep standing up. He waited, but nothing triggered any of the detectors. Was he overreacting...? 

Kenma opened his eyes and ignored the curious looks. He stepped forward, then carefully peered out of the store’s entrance. He saw nothing but an array of people bustling here and there in their own little worlds. There were no mages actively on the hunt to kill him. He raked his fingers through his bi-colored hair and shook his head. This stupid Grail thing was getting the better of him. 

“...This is so stupid,” He grumbled to himself. He stepped outside of the shop and turned to his right, to head back to the platform entrance. Instead, he collided into something solid like a brick wall, only warm to the touch. 

“Woah, there,” A hand gripped his elbow and steadied him. Kenma would have focussed on that if he was not distracted by the sound of metals rubbing against one another. 

_What?_

“Are you alright?” The voice spoke again. Kenma regained himself and peered up at a young, tall man before him. Instantly, he found himself focussed by the bird’s nest mess of a hair that crowned the guy’s head. 

“I’m fine…” He dragged his gaze from the hair, to the almost cheeky smirk on that JRocker’s face, and then the rest of the outfit. That ridiculous Dragon Age meet Final Fantasy outfit--armor?--that he was wearing and the very impressive, life like spear that was strapped to his back.

Kenma blinked at the cosplayer, as he tried to compute what he was seeing. 

“Are you sure?” The guy leaned unnecessarily close, that they were almost nose to nose. That cheeky smirk slinked into devious territory, which made Kenma squirm. 

“He looks like a Thug,” He heard an elderly voice commented behind him. Ahead of him, he could see a couple of young giggling ladies snapped a picture of the cosplayer. The Cosplayer seemed unfazed by their surroundings, with the way his slanted, bronze colored eyes remained trained on him. 

“I’m sure,” Kenma replied with an uncertain tone to his voice. He stepped away from the man, and ducked his head. “Excuse me.” He quickly mumbled. He walked around around the stranger then proceeded to his intended destination.

Despite his efforts, he could not help but glance over his shoulder towards the cosplayer one more time, before he hurried up the steps. This was getting the better of him but his mind still wandered back to the cosplayer in the market. 

“I’m paranoid…” He muttered when he reached the top step. Against his better judgement, he turned around and peered down the stairs and expected to see no one there. Except there was someone there. That same cosplayer now stood at the base of the steps and stared right at him. 

With a burst of adrenaline, Kenma sprinted toward the platform entrance. He swiped his train card and ran down the halls with the security guard shouting behind him, “No running!”

Kenma’s feet pounded the ground as he rushed down the halls. He bumped and weaved through the stragglers, ignored their curses and insults as he rushed up the steps to his platform, where he found himself immersed in the shadows. His eyes grew impossibly large as he stumbled at the last step before he caught himself. It was dark with just the night sky being the only source of light. There were no lights for this platform or the next, and then a cold realization struck him. 

He was alone. 

The sound of popping drew his attention to the stairs that he just climbed. One by one the bulbs burst in their sockets. With every pop the shadows grew and grew. Kenma stepped away, shaking. He looked around before be spotted the next stairwell. He immediately ran for it when a flicker of silver flashed from the corners of his eyes. He barely let out a cry when a he felt someone shoved him onto the ground so hard, that his shoulder stung in pain. 

A sound of metal skittered across the floor and drew Kenma's attention to it. Three feet away from his face was a horrifyingly, sharp dagger. He tore his eyes away to look up to see the Cosplayer’s back facing him. The spear was no longer strapped there. 

“Come on, Assassin!” The Cosplayer shouted into the shadows around them. He twirled the spear in his hand, almost casually. “I know you’re still here. After going after my Master like that, I would think you would have more balls to face me too. If you want, I can even bring the battle to you.” There was no masking the humor in his voice. 

The shadows all around them seemed to pull back, as if they were flinching at the Cosplayer’s remark.

“Another time perhaps.” A voice hissed as the shadows slowly receded. 

One by one, the lights on the platform came back to life, and bathed Kenma in its warm glow. It was only then did he remembered to breathe. His head fell back against the cold ground and gasped. His gaze turned to his right where he last saw the dagger, only to see an empty space. 

“Come on.” The Cosplayer’s voice turned gentle, almost sweet. 

Kenma turned his head and was met by the Cosplayer’s offered hand. He hesitated, before he grabbed it and allowed himself to be pulled back onto his feet. 

“Sorry for pushing you down. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The Cosplayer asked. 

Kenma shook his head, taking a step away from him. “You called me your Master.”

“Yes, I did.” The Cosplayer stated, in a matter-of-the-fact tone. He cocked his head with a look of confusion on his face. “That is who you are. You summoned me here.” 

“ ** _I DIDN’T!!_** ” Kenma shouted loudly. He cringed as he heard his voice echoed back to him in the empty platform. “I didn’t...” He repeated more softly. 

“You did,” The Cosplayer rested his spear against his shoulder. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with you.” Kenma opened his mouth to protest but the Cosplayer beat him to it. “Do you have a domain that we can retreat to?” 

“What?” Kenma blinked. 

“Your home or a base where we may discuss important matters without being overheard. ” The Cosplayer explained. “Assassin may have taken off, but I wouldn’t pass him or the others to try anything.” 

“Oh…” Kenma replied dumbly. He chewed the insides of his cheek. “Yes, there’s somewhere we can go to but you would need to change your clothes.” He was not about to walk all the way back to the dorm with a guy who looked like a cosplayer. 

The Cosplayer peered down at his own wardrobe and cocked his head. “I suppose a more modern wear would be more suitable.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Unfortunately, I am unable to simply transform into modern outfits…” He said, giving Kenma a sidelong look like an eager puppy. 

Kenma stared at him long and hard, then let out a groan. Hopefully they’ll find a shop or two that was still open.

“Fine.” He sighed. “Lets go.” 

Kenma led them back down from the platform to the shops and then to his dorm. He didn’t want to bring a complete stranger back home, but he’d rather do that then bring this to Akaashi’s doorstep. He already ruined his friend’s night with his panicked phone call. He didn’t need to bring the Grail to his doorsteps too. So, he braced himself from the strange looks he received from his neighbors, as he opened his door and let the Cosplayer--now adorned with a mishmash of poorly fitted outfit from Daiso that still looked oddly fashionable on him--into his room. The moment the door closed he casted a Silence spell, then turned his attention on the strange guy.

“Who are you?” Kenma demanded. 

The Cosplayer didn’t answer immediately. His eyes was focussed on exploring Kenma’s small living area, with a quiet curiosity and slight amusement.

Kenma frowned. “Excuse me.” He said more sternly. 

The Cosplayer turned to him. “Huh--Oh, sorry. Just sometimes I can’t help myself but to look.” He straightened himself and bowed a little. “My name is Kuroo Tetsurou. I am of the Lancer class.” One of the Noble Knight Classes of the Grail War. “You can call me whatever you like.” He gave a playful wink.

Kenma grimaced. “You called me your Master.” 

“Because you are my Master, as much as I am your Servant. It is my duty to serve and assist you in obtaining the Grail.” Cosplayer--Kuroo stated and straightened his posture.

“You don’t even know me.” Kenma stated. “For all you know, I could lead you to your death.”

There was a flash of surprise in Kuroo’s visage, before a subtle smile started to spread over his lips. “The fact that you’d worry for my life is a sign that you would be a worthy Master. Even if you don’t believe it.”

“Well, I don’t believe it.” Kenma stated and looked at him in the eyes. “Because I am completely unfit to be a Master. I don’t even want to be part of **This** and somehow I am!” His voice escalated despite himself. “And now I have people after me! People who want to kill me!”

And almost succeeded. He could’ve died right there in the train station that he took every time he visited Akaashi’s campus. He could’ve died on that platform, and there was nothing he could’ve done. None of his defensive arts would’ve saved him from Assassin. 

There was a moment of pause, when cool, gentle fingers cradled around his hands. They calmly lowered them from the air. Kenma blinked, his gaze met the bronze eyes. 

“Breathe,” Kuroo spoke softly, but also firmly. 

Kenma took a trembling breath, swallowing hard. He internally winced at how raw his throat felt . It occurred to him that he was shouting earlier. He also noticed that he was shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. He blinked back the frustrated tears that pooled in his eyes and sucked in another breath. Shamefully, he lowered his head. 

“Thank you,” He hoarsely whispered. 

“You’re welcome.” Kuroo replied, but didn’t let go of his hands. “This is your first battle?” 

Kenma could only nod.

Kuroo looked at him with an expression that Kenma didn’t understand. He tried to pull his hand away but Kuroo didn’t let go. Instead the Servant pulled him closer. 

“Have faith in me, Master.” Kuroo stated. “I will protect you with my life and we will win this war.” He swore with such unbridled confidence, that somehow helped eased Kenma’s fear. At least for now. 

Kenma swallowed. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Hm?” Lancer seemed confused. 

“Don’t call me ‘Master’.” Kenma stated more clearly. “My name is Kouzume Kenma. Just call me Kenma.” 

“Ah. Alright, Kenma.” Kuroo nodded, finally letting go of his hands. “I don’t really mind whatever you choose to call me, but in the battlefield, I would prefer if you call me Lancer.” 

“All right.” Kenma agreed. He drifted away from Kuroo to shuffle over to his desk for a bottle of aspirin. “... we should go over our plans, right?” 

“That would be wise,” Kuroo nodded in agreement. 

“Ok…” Kenma popped the pill into his mouth and downed it with water.

He sat down on his bed and started planning their next steps. This would hold him over for the night, and hopefully tomorrow he would wake up to find this all to just be one bad dream.

\---

Miles away from the Nekoma University, a Church stood proudly on a hill that oversaw the immediate neighborhoods of the wealthy. The way the lights illuminated the main entrance in such a way that it appeared like a beacon of hope, and a sanctuary from the dreary atmosphere that surrounded it just beyond the lights.

Within its doors, an elder Priest surveyed the interior. His phone pressed against his ear as he walked around and flipped off the lights. “Has it been confirmed?” The Priest queried, as he peered inside one of the classrooms. 

“Yes. Assassin has been sighted and confirmed.” A voice answered. 

“There was another servant, wasn’t there?” He locked the supply closet, and then moved onto the small ‘faculty room,’ before he turned off the lights there too. 

“Lancer you mean. He too, has been spotted in the same area as Assassin.” The other man said, “That would make it a total of five Servants confirmed.” 

“That’s including the Aoba Johsai and Karasuno.” The older man toyed with his cross absently, as he poked his head at the small classroom for the youngest students. He switched off the lights there too. “Has Lancer’s Master been identified yet?” 

“Not yet, Father.”

“Then look into it.” The elder sighed. He took his time to wander onward, towards the main hall. “Was anything discovered in London?”

“No sir.” 

“And the disturbance at Haneda Airport?” The Priest’s expression turned sour.

“No sir--But we received aid from Aoba Johsai clan. Their Archer is assisting us in our investigation.” The speaker quickly added. 

The annoyance on the Priest’s face diminished a little. “I see… It’s a good thing we had Aoba Johsai’s aid. Has the package arrived safely?” 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good. Make sure it stays like that and be sure to have answers for me by tomorrow morning.” The tone in the priest voice made a promise of consequences, if that was not met. 

“Yes sir. Goodnight, Sir.” 

The elder turned off his phone and pocketed it, as he crossed the threshold and into the well-lit pulpit. He rolled his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck. The Grail War had barely begun and already, there had appeared to be skirmishes taking afoot to disrupt this honorable battle. Honestly, who would do such a thing? 

He turned towards the entrance and jumped, clutching his chest.

“Oh heavens.” He heart pounded against his ribs. “I didn’t see you there.” He felt adrenaline coursed through his old veins as he gazed at the figure that stood just in front of the main entrance. His green trench looked oddly damp in strange places.

“Can I help you sir?” He stepped forward, when he heard the low growl. It was just then, that he noticed the large black dog at the stranger’s side. His eyes darted back to the man to see the cold smile spread on the stranger’s face, widening. 

“I believe you can help me.” The Stranger replied slowly, before the dog charged at the priest and leapt for his throat.


	3. Day 2: Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You didn’t have to encourage him.”
> 
> “I don’t know what you mean.” Kuroo grinned at him like a cat that ate the canary. His outfit was better now. It was still a bit loose but the pants--despite being faded and tattered--looked good on him along with the plain white T-shirt and flannel combo. He received more looks in one hour than Kenma ever experience in his lifetime. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that Kuroo didn’t look bad. Though, he also didn’t look bad in the Daiso shirt either… 
> 
> “You do know what I mean.” Kenma looked around before he made a right at the corner and passed by a couple small shops. “At most you could’ve said that you were a visiting friend from Osaka. Declaring yourself as my boyfriend was unnecessary.” His ears burned with embarrassment. 

The morning came far too soon for Kenma’s liking; its blinding ray disturbed his rest, while the chilled air sent goosebumps racing down his arms. He pulled the blankets over his head as he tried to fight off the waking world, but even tucked in the folds of his warm cocoon, he knew that sleep had already fled from the scene. 

“How long do you intend to sleep? The weather looks gorgeous outside.” A voice chimed through the layers of blankets, sending a jolt through Kenma. 

All the memories of last night rushed back so fast, it left him breathless. He looked down at his right hand and saw the tribal marking etched on his skin.

It was real. All of it was real. He swallowed hard. His fingers gripped the sheets and pulled it down from over his head. He turned onto his side to see his smiling Servant. 

Kuroo straddled his desk chair with his arms rested over the backrest, and his chin on top of his folded arms. From behind the backrest, was the boldfaced text message of ‘ **I’m not panda** ’ scrawled over a cheap, Chinatown quality shirt.

... he would need to get Kuroo a better outfit. Perhaps Lev had some clothes to spare…

“Kenma?” Kuroo cocked a brow at him. 

Kenma shook his head and reluctantly sat up. “Did anything happen last night?”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and felt the world spun. It was just as he feared. By having such an elaborate familiar, it was taking a toll on his mana. Blindly, he reached for his shelf and grabbed one of the small vials of potion. Without a second thought he gulped it down in one go. 

Kuroo sat up straighter in his seat. His expression turned somber. “Assassin didn’t try to follow us and I didn’t sense any other Servant within the perimeter.” 

That was great news, but Kuroo’s expression spoke otherwise. Kenma felt the dread crept beneath his skin. “Something happened.”

The Servant nodded. “They found two bodies at the train station. Both were stabbed numerous times before their hearts were removed.” 

Kenma stared at Kuroo, stunned. 

“Two bodies…” He whispered. “Were they mages?” 

Kuroo didn’t need to answer because Kenma could see the truth on his Servant’s face; they were humans. They had no stake in the war and yet were caught in the middle of it.

With a trembling hand, he set the empty vial back on the shelf. “...Their hearts were removed?” 

“Yes,” Kuroo nodded.

Kenma recalled this in Transfiguration and Familiar classes. The creator did not need to be their creature’s main source of mana. Instead they could ‘feed’ on them another’s life force. It was a brilliant tactic. That way the mage would not need to worry about their mana being depleted. Except the whole idea was revolting. 

Kenma peered up at Kuroo. “Don’t expect me to use such crude methods.” His tone left no room for argument. They would not go down that route even if it meant that Kenma would exhaust his mana supply. 

The Servant chuckled softly. “It’s a good thing that we agree on that.” Kuroo replied. “Otherwise, I may had to take back my words about you being a good Master.” 

Kenma let out a huff as he started to climb out of bed. His phone buzzed to life with a ‘90s American song filled the room with it’s chorus: 

‘Bye bye bye!  
Don’t want to be another fool for you--’ 

Kenma snatched his phone from the top of his shelf and stabbed the mute button with a finger. He mentally cursed Lev’s name. 

“You really like that song, huh?” Kuroo teased lightly. 

Kenma was ready to chuck a pillow at his face when the number of voicemails caught his attention. 

17 Voicemails in fact. 

“Was my phone ringing--singing while I was asleep?” Kenma hit the first message and pressed the phone against his ear. 

“Yes,” Kuroo said with a nod. “It repeated that song quite often last night.” 

Kenma was so tired that even this annoying ringtone hadn’t woken him up. “You should’ve told me.” Kenma said as he turned his head away and focussed on the voicemail. 

‘You better be asleep and just forgot to call me, Kenma. Please, **please** call me when you wake up.’ Akaashi’s voice spilled through speaker with an anxiousness he never heard from his friend before.

********

********

Guilt clenched around his chest. He should have called Akaashi when he had the chance... He hit the call back button and waited. 

His phone barely rang when someone answered. “Kenma?” 

“Yeah,” Kenma sighed. “I’m so sorry for not calling you earlier--”

“It’s fine.” Akaashi cut him off. “Are you ok? My school has been spamming us with alerts ever since last night’s incident at the station. When you didn’t show up--”

“I’m all right.” Kenma assured and felt another wave of guilt washed over him. “I should’ve called but something came up and I just lost track of time… What incident?” 

“Someone was killed at the station not too far from my campus. Two victims. So far they haven’t been identified.” Akaashi reported. “My school has already increased security. Some of my classmates thought that wasn’t enough and left. So did a couple of the faculty teachers.” 

“Are you going to leave?” Kenma asked. 

“No.” Akaashi scoffed. “My hardass Potion Professor refuse to cancel the exam. Besides, if my school can't defend themselves from _this_ then they aren’t allowed to charge their students with their ridiculous tuition fees.” 

As comforting as it was to hear Akaashi’s dry humor, but it was also ridiculous; as he didn’t know what really went down in the station. 

Kenma raked his fingers through his hair as he sought his words carefully. “Do you want to meet up? I can take the bus there or walk--” 

Akaashi let out a laugh. “Don’t. You don’t have to. I’ll come to you. I could use a break from here before I go crazy. How about we meet at the cafe? The Calico Cat Cafe, around 12?” 

“Ok. That’ll work.” Kenma readily agreed. 

“I’ll see you then. I need to get ready for class--Also Kenma. Stay safe.” Akaashi said with some rustling noises in the background. 

“You too. I’ll see you later.” Kenma hung up then he paused stared at his empty hand. There were a couple blonde and black strands of hair caught between his fingers... 

“Is everything ok?” Kuroo asked, regaining Kenma’s attention. 

“Yes,” He replied, “We’re going to meet a friend of mine later but first…” His eyes trailed to the panda in the T-shirt that Kuroo wore. He knew it was going to be a pain in the ass, but he couldn't leave with Kuroo dressed like that. “We need to get you some new clothes.”

Kuroo looked surprise at him, a smile spread across his face. 

Kenma knew in that moment, that it was going to be a long day.

\---

“...There were two bodies at the Fukurodani Station, near the university.” Spoke a man with raven dark hair, clad in bone white tailored dress shirt and obsidian black pants.

“Yes sir,” A surly voice answered through the four speakers that was stationed at each corner of the office. 

The man sighed loudly as he straightened his sleeves. He crossed the short distance to one of the large expansive windows that peered out to the courtyard. 

Outside stood a man with unruly spikes of hair. His back was to him as he leaned against the rail and watched the colorful koi swam in their impressive pond. 

Even from his office’s window, Hiro could see how the dark grey suit stretched over the broad back and shoulders a tad too tightly. He can’t afford to have his Servant appeared less than stellar. He would need to call his tailor to get that fix as soon as possible. 

“So, that makes it a total of seven bodies, correct? The two at the station and the five at the airport.” He asked as he started back to his large oak desk. "Not including the mess in London."

“Yes, Sir.” Replied the disembodied voice. 

“And no sign of Archer?” He sat down in his chair. 

“None, Sir.” 

“All right. Continue to keep an eye out for the other Servants and their Masters. You are dismissed.” He hung up the phone with a tap of his finger. With a deep sigh he turned his head toward the open doorway. “You still can’t sense her, Sister?” 

‘Sister’ was slender woman of caramel, brown wavy hair in a white, tailor suit. Her white pumps with a black trim tapped the floor impatiently. Her blood red lips pressed into an ugly scowled.

“It’s possible that she simply went out of range.” She reasoned as she walked up to his desk. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor with every step. “Perhaps she found something.”

“Wouldn’t she had told you then, Yumiko?” He countered.

“You never know what to expect with these Servants,” She retorted and held back the urge to snarl at him. Instead she reached out and plucked the letter opener from his desk. The wickedly sharp blade glinted under the fluorescent lights dangerously as she slid her thumb over the beautifully crafted hilt of intertwined vines and delicate leaves. A simple item that expressed the Aoba Johsai clan to the core: beautiful and dangerous. 

“I’ll admit that she doesn’t appeared to be as reliable as your astute soldier.” She turned the letter opener in her hand, before a scowl formed on her pretty face when she saw her brother’s outstretched hand. With a huff she set the letter opener against his palm. 

“When are you going to accept the fact that she is dead?” He bluntly asked, as he delicately placed the letter opener back on it’s stand.

“You don’t know that, Hiro.” She quipped, her voice was like steel. “She’s not your Servant.” 

He glanced to her from the corner of his eyes with a look of absolute indifference that made her blood boil. “Whatever you decide, Yumiko. You can stay here, seek refuge at the Church or leave the city. The choice is yours.”

“It brings me such warmth to know my brother would not kick me out of my own childhood home.” She scoffed.

“It would look bad if the clan turned on each other.” His shoulders rolled back as he sat tall in his chair. His eyes rested coolly at his sister. “As head of this estate, I must make sure that the clan upheld it’s image. We were so close in winning the last grail. If it wasn’t for a rogue mage, then we would’ve taken it. This time will be different.” 

“Of course it will.” She straightened her suit absently. “We’re part of it after all. ”

\---

Kenma dodged his classes and yet was still late to arrive at the cafe. He knew Lev would’ve taken his time but he didn’t knew how much time. Nor did he expected for Kuroo to fuel his enthusiasm.

Kenma shot a dirty look at Kuroo for the nth time as they cross the busy street. “You didn’t have to encourage him.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Kuroo grinned at him like a cat that ate the canary. His outfit was better now. It was still a bit loose but the pants--despite being faded and tattered--looked good on him along with the plain white T-shirt and flannel combo. He received more looks in one hour than Kenma ever experience in his lifetime. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that Kuroo didn’t look bad. Though, he also didn’t look bad in the Daiso shirt either… 

“You do know what I mean.” Kenma looked around before he made a right at the corner and passed by a couple small shops. “At most you could’ve said that you were a visiting friend from Osaka. Declaring yourself as my boyfriend was unnecessary.” His ears burned with embarrassment. 

“But it achieve your goal of discretion--”

“How?” Kenma squawked. “By the time we come back, the whole floor will hear about it.”

“And they will keep their distance. I doubt they would want to know what takes place in your bedroom.” Kuroo inserted. 

Kenma shot him another dirty look. 

“I don’t know why you’re so rile up,” Kuroo said. “You know it’s a farce unless…” He gave his Master a curious stare. “Unless you fancy L--”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Kenma looked away and shuddered. “Ugh.” He can hear his insolent Servant snicker behind him.

It was another block before Kenma spotted the cafe’s door. It was easily recognizable with a calico feline painted on the doorway in the Maneki Neko position to welcome customers. 

“Ok, so here’s the plan…” He turned around to see nothing but passing people. “Kuroo?” He turned his head this way and that but there was no sign of his Servant anywhere. Internally he tugged on the tether. _‘Kuroo!’_ He mentally hissed. 

_‘I’m still here… I just wanted to check something out. You go on ahead, Kenma.’_ Kuroo said.

Kenma bit the inside of his cheek. _‘Is there something wrong?’_

 _‘No, nothing. Go on ahead and meet your friend. I’ll keep post outside.’_ Kuroo assured. 

Kenma hesitated for a moment but eventually proceeded to the cafe. With a deep breath he pushed the door open and braced himself. 

Inside was bustling with girls cooing at little fluffy kittens. Others were on the carpet playing with the juveniles. Then there was Akaashi who sat next to the window, four tables from the entranceway. 

“Welcome! How can I help you today?” A bubbly girl with curly hair greeted him. 

“I’m ok. I’m actually here for my friend.” He gestured to Akaashi’s table before he walked over to him. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Akaashi waved it off. “It’s fine. I barely got here on time too. Test ran over longer than expected.” He gave Kenma a once over. “How are you?”

“I’m tired actually…” Kenma took a seat across from him. “I’m sorry for not calling you last night. Everything just got--” 

Akaashi held up a hand. “You’re fine and that’s what matters. If it’s really eating you, then you can buy me some tea,”

Kenma nodded and waved down a waitress. As the tea was prepared, Akaashi went over what happened last night in further details. It wasn’t much really. The identity of the victims were still not release but the school took extra measures in protecting their students and faculties. That included a visitor pass for the public that enter the campus to ensure that all visitors are accounted for. 

“Is your school is on lock down too?" Akaashi asked as the waiter came with their kettle and two tea cups. Kenma reached out and poured them each a cup. 

“No,” Kenma shook his head. “The school sent a notification to everyone to be on their guards for suspicious characters. They may had increase security but I can’t tell. I just know it’s not as intensive as yours.” 

“Well, that’s a good thing.” Akaashi took a sip of his tea and cradled the cup in his hand. “So… what happened last night that warranted a frantic call from you?” 

Kenma lowered his eyes to his drink and watched as the tea leaves settle at the bottom of his cup. “About that…” He tugged at the end of his sleeve. He had purposely grabbed the largest jacket he had to make sure his hand stayed concealed. 

“Was it the Untouchables?” Akaashi asked. His expression turned annoyed. He knew how the Untouchables were treating Kenma.

Kenma shook his head. “No, it’s not them…” He chewed on his bottom lip. “How much do you remember from your history class?” 

Akaashi looked confused. “Um… Depends on what part of history you’re talking about.”

“Relating to the Grail Wars. In the books, they said the Church acts like referees.” Kenma glanced at Akaashi. 

“Overseers.” Akaashi corrected. “They watch over the fighters and ensure that the rules are followed. They also make sure that the main public remain unaware of the battle’s existence.” In short, they cover up the mess. 

“And they’re located everywhere? Or are they like the Mage Association, with their office located in a designated spot.” Kenma pressed on. 

“Similar.” Akaashi said. “Their main branch is located in Italy but there’s several smaller satellites practically stationed all over the world. There’s even a medium size one that’s not too far from here.” 

Kenma sat up straighter. “Where?” 

“Toward the outskirts of the city, where the larger estates are located. If I remember correctly, it’s not far from the Aoba Johsai estate.” An Untouchable. 

Kenma involuntarily flinched. “I see…” He sipped his tea.

“I’m kind of surprise that you’re so curious about it. Especially with how much you hated History.” Akaashi didn’t hide his inquisitive tone. He leaned forward. His head little toward the side. “Are you planning to go to the Church? Things may be different now but I don’t think it’ll be wise to go there by yourself.”

“It’s fine. Really it is.” Kenma assured and tried to look convincing. “I was just curious is all but thank you for the information. Again, I’m sorry for scaring you last night.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Akaashi gave him smile that suddenly faded as soon as it came. His brows furrowed and his expression turned to concern. 

“Akaashi?” Kenma said. 

“Why don’t you come over to my place?” Akaashi abruptly asked. “I can show you the routes that leads to the Church.” 

It was Kenma’s turn to look confuse. “Um… I’m sure I can google it--” Akaashi grabbed his arm firmly. 

“I know this is going to sound weird,” Akaashi whispered urgently, “But we should go now.” He began to stand up. 

Kenma was about to protest when he felt it. A sudden presence became clear. It felt similar to Kuroo but it was different like how Assassin felt different. 

“Kenma,” Kenma blinked and saw the stern green eyes of his friend. “Trust me, please.” Akaashi’s grip tightened on his arm. 

Kenma could only afford a curt nod before Akaashi dragged him out to the back exit of the cafe. His heart sped up as he stumbled behind his friend. 

Could it be that Akaashi felt it too? Could other mages sense a Servant? 

Yet the time for question was swept away by a sudden gale that crashed against Kenma’s chest. He staggered away from Akaashi by the sheer force of it. He didn’t have time to regain himself when a sharp, piercing screech filled his ears. He let out a cry as he covered his ears in vain to try to stop the sound. He was so focus on that he didn’t notice the growing shadow beneath his feet of a large predator.

“Stop!” Akaashi shouted in Kenma’s direction but not at Kenma. 

Kenma’s head snapped up to see a pair of curved blades started to come down upon him like a pair of talons before something else crashed into it. 

The screech stopped and in it’s place was the sound of crunching metal. The blurred assailant crashed into the ground with such force that Kenma felt the vibration beneath his feet. Though as soon as the assailant hit the ground, he was back on his feet in time to parry his defender before they both were forced back to retreat on either side of the alley. One side was Kuroo and himself and the other was Akaashi and his attacker. 

“Don’t tell me that’s all you have for me.” Kuroo harped with a toothy grin as he pointed his spear at the opposition. 

“You wish.” The Attacker shared his grin as he adjusted his grip on his twin short swords. His topaz eyes flashed predatorily at them. Yet the sense of fear failed to hit Kenma, as he found his attention locked onto Akaashi’s frantic face. 

“Kenma!” Akaashi called out. “Get away from him!” His green eyes darted to Kuroo. Within that fraction of a second everything clicked. 

Before he could hesitate, Kenma grabbed the back of Kuroo’s armor. “Stop.” 

“What?” Kuroo glanced to him, confused and alert. “Master--”

“I said stop, Lancer.” He spoke firmly and turned his eyes back to his friend. 

Akaashi stared at him as the realization struck him. His eyes flickered to Kuroo and then back to Kenma. He swallowed down the knot in his throat and place a hand on the Attacker-- _his_ Servant’s--arm. “Stand down, Rider.” 

‘Rider’ shot a glanced at Akaashi before he quickly sheathed his swords at his sides. “Well, this is interesting.” He commented with a friendly smile. “You two know each other?” He looked at Kenma and then to his Master.

“We’re friends.” Akaashi replied tiredly as he gaze at Kenma. “It… It seems that we have a lot to discuss.” 

Kenma nodded in agreement. “Yeah… we do.”

\--- 

“That pompous, arrogant asshole.” Yumiko gripped her steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. “It’s not my fault that I was given an incompetent Servant!” She snarled to no one. Her tires screeched as she made an illegal turn and nearly ran over a pedestrian.

It was humiliating and irritating her to the core to know that out of the seven Masters, **_she_** \--an heir to the Aoba Johsai clan--was the first to lose their Servant. It was so prosperous! These were supposed to be heroes but apparently they could be just as useless as any other familiars. 

Then of course, her dear brother couldn’t miss out on an opportunity to point out her dilemma. She wanted nothing more than to strangle him in that office but she knew better... If only she had a better Servant then the clan would realized their mistake when they chose to place her brother as the head of the family. 

She looked ahead to see the top of the steeple before the gates came into view. She passed them and parked in the mostly empty lot--saved for old car in the staff's parking section. She unclench her hands from the wheel to reach up, turned the rearview mirror and gazed upon herself. She assessed her appearance and hair before she killed the engine. With grace and poise, she stepped of the car and made her way to the main doors. Her eyes wandered over her surroundings before she entered the Church. 

Welcoming her was the simple yet elegant altar that stood across from the threshold. Between them were rows upon rows of pews on either side of the room, with a carpeted path down the center. The lights were still on and the candles continued to burn. Everything was in their place except for the priest. 

“I thought Priests aren’t allowed to leave their post.” She grumbled. 

“A dire circumstances required Father Akihito’s attention.” 

An undignified shriek escaped her before she could stop herself. She whipped around to give the person a piece of her mind but stopped dead in her tracks. 

Three rows from the altar stood a young man with an oddly endearing smile on his face. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“You didn’t startle me.” She denied out of pride. Quietly, she walked around the pews and approached the stranger. Her steps, for once, was almost silent. Her eyes remain trained on the lone the figure and could not help but give him a once over before she stop short. “You have a dog.” 

“Mamoru,” The young man patted the dog’s boxy head. “He never leaves my side.” 

“I see…” She trailed off as her eyes took in every detail to this stranger. 

Despite how ill fitted his wardrobe appeared--it looked like it came from a closet of some aged man with no taste--the man was attractive. He almost looked like a model with that perfect balance of delicate masculinity. Not to mention how pristine and soft his hair seemed to be. Even Yumiko had to admit it was impressive.

Her eyes lowered to his face and met those warm, brown pools. “Do you know when Father Akihito will come back?”

“I’m afraid he would not return until tomorrow morning.” The stranger replied. 

“Oh, I see…” Her hands curled at her sides. “You’re not a Priest.” 

A smile spread on his face. “Fortunately, I am not.” 

“Or a human.” She stated. 

He shook his head that made those lazy waves bounce. His smile grew a little. 

“You’re not a mage as well… Am I correct?” She stood taller as she stopped a few feet from him. 

“In this Grail War, you are correct.” He replied in amusement. “In the next, I could be summon as a Caster.” 

Yumiko was not amused. She extended her range to search the Church but felt nothing. There was no immediate source of mana anywhere. “Where is your Master?”

“I don’t have one.” The Stranger shrugged his shoulders. “When I’ve awoken I found myself standing at the altar.” He gestured toward it. “None of the holy men knew why I was here but figured there must be a reason to my existence and allowed me to stay.”

“What is keeping you tether here then?” Suspicion shimmered in her eyes. 

“The Grail?” He shrugged again. “I’m not sure. I just know that my mana source is limited.”

She stood straighter. “An Archer Class then.” As they are one of the few classes that aren’t too dependent on their Master’s mana. Now that she thought about it, she could feel the level of his power from where she stood. Even with his mana being extremely limited he was already at the same strength as her former Servant. 

“I am,” The Servant, Archer, nodded, “One that is becoming bored of this domain. ” 

“You want to fight.” She stated casually with the hint of cautious curiosity.

“That is what this is all about, isn’t it? To fight for the Holy Grail and to have the opportunity to be granted a wish.” He spoke evenly, his eyes never wavered from hers.

“So you have a wish.” She took one slow step toward him. 

“I do.” He cocked an elegant brow at her. “Dont you?”

She eyed him and turned away in a mock disinterest. “Of course I do. Don’t tell me you think I’m one of those careless mages that participate just for honor.” She scoffed.

“No,” He stated and drew her attention to him. “I think you are a woman of ambition.” He strode to her. “Of considerable strength and elegance but also vicious. I believe you know exactly what you want and nothing will stand between you and your goal.” He stopped just a foot away from her. “That’s why you’re here.” 

She boldly held his gaze as the words settled into her mind. The corners of her lips curved upward. “You speak so confidently even though you’re not even at full strength.”

“That is because I know what I am capable of.” He spoke with unrivaled confidence that made Yumiko’s heart quiver. “I know for certain that I will win this Grail for you.” He bowed gracefully. “Would you give me this honor to serve you, Mistress...?” 

Her command seals grew hot against the back of her delicate hand as she felt his power hummed around them. There was no mistaking this Servant’s strength. It was unlike what she felt with her former Archer. It was also quite possible that he surpassed her brother’s Servant as well. 

A cold smile bloomed on her face. “Nakamura Yumiko.” She brought her hand up and the seal glowed with power. “I expect nothing but victory in this fight. Should you fail me, Archer, I promise you will regret it.” 

“I do not plan to disappoint, Mistress Nakamura. We will win this war.” He gazed up at her. His eyes glowed with renewed power. 

They could win this… 

“Tell me your name, Servant.” Yumiko ordered as her newly obtained Servant stood tall before her. 

A sweet smile rested on Archer’s face. “My name Oikawa Tooru.”

\---

“So that was Assassin’s doing.” Akaashi said after Kenma told him everything. “Rider and I were suspicious but Assassin probably left by the time we arrived.”

“It doesn’t seemed like he favor direct confrontation from his opponents. He refused to take Lancer’s challenge at the station.” Kenma elaborated. 

“Well, he has more sense than my Servant.” Akaashi sipped his soda and glanced over to the two Servants on the other end of the room. The two had a box of pizza split between them as they watched a baking show from Akaashi’s laptop. Both seemed far too enraptured by it. “ _He_ has the tendency to walk into a suspicious situation without thinking of the consequence.” He grimaced. 

“He’s Rider?” Kenma asked as he followed friend’s gaze toward their occupied Servants. With the fight behind them, it was easier see the Servant that tried to kill him. 

The man was shorter than Kuroo but had a broader, solid built. It made sense how the Servant shook off Kuroo’s attack as easily as he did back there. Rider looked like he could take a lot of hits without even flinching. Though, the Rider here was so different than the one that fought in the alley. He didn’t look or feel as dangerous as he had. In fact, he resembled more like a fraternity jock with the friendly wide smile and the boisterous laugh. Not to mention the ridiculous hair. 

“Is that like a requirement for Servants? To have hair like that?” Kenma mumbled. 

Akaashi snorted.”Perhaps.” He turned his attention toward the taller of the two Servants. “So...You’re Lancer’s Master.”

Kenma nodded before he sighed, “This is bizarre.” 

“That is an understatement.” Akaashi agreed. He withdrew his gaze and turned to Kenma. “Look Kenma, I don’t want to fight you.” 

“Then don’t. We don’t have to fight each other.” Kenma said. “I don’t care what the rules says. There could be a loophole in all of this. There has to be one.” 

Akaashi looked surprise. “Careful, you almost sounded optimistic there.” He pointed out and leaned against the side of his bed. “Is that why you were asking about the Church earlier? You were looking for a loophole?” 

Kenma lowered his eyes to the carpet and started to pick at an invisible crumb. “I… I was looking for an escape.” He said softly, barely a whisper. His gaze darted to Kuroo and then back to the carpet. 

“An escape from--” Akaashi tensed up immediately. He leaned closer to Kenma. “You want to relinquish your command seals.” 

“I’m not a good Master.” Kenma looked pleadingly at Akaashi. “I’m not suitable for this.” 

“And you think I am?” Akaashi countered. 

“I think you’re more capable than I can ever be.” Kenma recoiled from Akaashi. “I--” He raked his fingers through his hair. “We can go to the Church and see our options.” Hopefully, there was an option for them. 

Akaashi’s gaze bored into him before he gave a reluctant nod. “Fine but I rather you keep your Command Seals.” He said. “We don’t know what to expect from the other Masters or what they are capable of doing... I’ll sleep easier knowing your Servant is watching out for you.” 

In all honesty, Kenma felt the same way.

“Master?” Kenma blinked and noticed Kuroo’s concern expression on his face. “Is something the matter?”

“No, it’s nothing Kuroo.” Kenma quickly turned away to see a baffled expression on Akaashi. 

The bafflement faded into a coy smirk. “Kuroo?”

Kenma’s cheeks burned. “Lancer.” He corrected himself. 

Akaashi looked amused and pointed to Rider. “That oaf over there is Bokuto.” 

“AkaashiiiI!” Bokuto whined, “I’m not an oaf.” 

“Who thought it was a smart idea to charge down the train tracks and nearly crash into an oncoming train?” Akaashi countered. 

“Assassin are known to favor dark places.” Bokuto reasoned. 

“Yes, thats why you thought it was a smart idea to enter that environment so ill prepared.” Akaashi shot him a firm look. 

Bokuto cowed. “I’ll be careful next time…” He mumbled like a sullen child.

“You don’t have a choice but to be careful.” Akaashi harped. 

Kuroo snickered behind his hand before he ducked away from Bokuto’s punch. 

Kenma rolled his eyes and checked the time. “We should head back before it gets too late.” He climbed to his feet. “Do you think we can go to the Church tomorrow?” 

Akaashi nodded. “Yes, but we would need to meet up midday again.”

“That’s fine. We’ll see you guys tomorrow then. Kuroo?” He turned away from Akaashi to his Servant. 

“Five more minutes please.” Kuroo looked up at him pleadingly. “They’re about to announce Star Baker for the pastry contest.” 

“Pretty please!” Bokuto added. 

Kenma gave them both a withering look. “Weren’t you two trying to kill each other a couple hours ago.” 

“Bygones be bygones,” Kuroo waved it off. “Things are different now right?” He smiled brilliantly at Kenma.

They were different now… Kenma closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Five minutes and then we’re going.”

“Yay!” The two Servants cheered.

\---

The sun was setting by the time they got back to Nekoma University. Kenma was tired from the whole experience but felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He wasn’t doing this alone but then again he wasn’t ever alone since this started.

He snuck a shy glance to Kuroo. He knew he was an unfit Master but having Kuroo there beside him eased his anxieties. He drew his attention away and rubbed the back of his hand as they approached his dorm room. As they got closer, his eyes wandered down to a small package that sat at the base of his door. 

The box was neither big nor small but it was garishly wrapped. It was like a patchwork of mismatched scraps of wrapping paper that were generously tape together. Scrawled next to a skiing Santa Claus and cupid was Kenma’s name. 

“What is that?” Kuroo asked and peered over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know.” Kenma hesitantly picked up the item. He looked at the writing. For a moment he debated if he should burn the box and it’s contents right there and then or open it. 

“What do you think is inside? Do you think it’s a trap?” Kuroo poked at the box. 

“I don’t think so…” Kenma trailed off. 

It could be a trap. It could also be something from Lev which is worse than a trap… but he couldn’t see what’s inside of it. Someone actually used a masking spell on it. He frowned. “Come on.” He opened the door and led them inside. He automatically casted a silent spell and walked to his bed. He tore apart the wrapping paper then opened the box. 

He stared long and hard at it’s contents as he tried to process what he was seeing. 

Inside was a value pack Twilight Pleasure condoms, two tubes of lubricants and a note that sat on top of the items. On the note scrawled three messages by three different writers.

**‘I hope these help! Remember what they taught us in school: Never forget protection!’ =^_^ = Your Amazing Friend, Haiba Lev**

‘Please stop telling Lev all of this shit.’ Your Disgruntled Friend, Yamamoto Taketora 

‘We won’t tell but please try not to be too loud. Others are studying.’ ~ Your Amiable Friend, Nobuyuki Kai

Kenma gripped the box tightly and seethed. If he survives the Grail, then the first thing he will do is murder Lev. Yes, that sounded like a fantastic reward for all of this.

“What is that?” Kuroo picked up one of the tubes of lubricant. 

Kenma snatched the tube like a viper and shoved it back in the box. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He quickly stowed the box under his bed. “Look, we need to focus. There’s a lot that need to cover and plan for tomorrow.” He grabbed his laptop and started to pull up a map as he blatantly ignored the smirk on Kuroo’s face. 

Thankfully, Kuroo didn’t comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the story.


	4. Day 3: The Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took a few minutes before they arrived at the intersection. One road continued onward and the other split off toward the hill where the Church rested upon. 
> 
> Kenma wilted at the sheer sight of it. “Do we have to climb **that**?” 
> 
> “Well, we could have my Servant take us up there but the noise and the sudden accumulation of owls might draw too much attention to us.” Akaashi crossed the intersection. “Come on. It’s not too bad.” 
> 
> No, it was so much worst.

“...Have you heard?...”

“They found more bodies…”

“...They were all stabbed to death too!”

“I heard that their hearts were missing. What kind of sick fuck would do that?” 

“Wait! D-d-do you think _He_ could be behind this?”

The cafeteria was filled with those whispers or variations of it. All Kenma could do was keep his head down as he headed back to the dorms. If he stayed, then he knew the guilt wouldn’t let him eat. This could had been avoided if Lancer and him decided to go after Assassin.

With a sigh, he opened his door. Before him was Kuroo perched on his bed. His back faced him as he peered out of the window with a look of envy on his face. 

“You could wander the campus if you’d like.” Kenma said as he closed the door behind him. He toed off his shoes and made his way to his desk. 

“I don’t mind,” Kuroo turned away from the window. “That’s all you’re going to eat?” He pointedly looked at the small mountain sweets that sat on Kenma’s plate. 

“It’s breakfast.” He argued as he took a seat at his desk. His eyes darted to the spear that rested against the wall. It was single blade, about foot in length and two inches in width with a sharp arrow tip. Around where the silver blade and black shaft connected was scrap of red cloth. It looked heavy and was much, much taller than him. 

“If you say so~” Kuroo didn’t sound convinced. 

“Had anything happened last night?” In defiance, Kenma took a large bite of his apple strudel.

“Nothing in the immediate area,” Kuroo reported. “Though, I’ve overheard some of the guards talked about another murder.” 

“I heard about it in the cafeteria…” Kenma swallowed hard. “Do you know how many died?” 

“Three this time, in three different homes. None of it was near the station.” Kuroo assured. 

An initial wave of relief washed over Kenma knowing the attacks had migrated away from his friend. Though, that feeling was quickly dashed away as the guilt sank it’s nasty claws around his heart. After all, innocent people were still being killed by this Servant.

“I see…” He quietly replied. He nibbled at the flaky edge of his pastry. “We’ll report it to the Church when we get there today.” 

Kuroo nodded before he gazed out of the window. The warm sunlight seemed to soften the sharp lines of his face. He still looked suspicious but a little more approachable. Then again, it wasn’t like anyone was keeping their distance. Word spread quickly throughout their entire floor about Kuroo. Kenma felt the looks from his neighbors when he left for the cafeteria earlier. He also knew that Kuroo had shamelessly acted his role as the doting boyfriend. 

His cheeks burned with the memory. 

“Do you think the Priest would be able to help us?” Kuroo asked. 

Kenma pushed back the embarrassment. “They should be able to help us. That is what they’re supposed to do.” Yet, it was a little strange that they allowed the media to post all sorts of news regarding the recent attacks. Perhaps it was intentional? 

“All right, I will trust your judgement on this.” Kuroo gave him smile that made his stomach flip. 

...If only Kuroo knew the real intention of this visit…

“Kenma, do you know who this ‘He’ person that everyone is talking about?” Kuroo cocked his head. “Do you think he could be a Master?”

Kenma paused in mid chew. It never occurred to him that _he_ would be a Master, but at the sametime it made perfect sense. It was _his_ field before he was kicked out of the school. “He was a former student here. I guess he could be a Master but… I dont know.”

“Would he be an ally or an enemy?” Kuroo looked inquisitively at him.

“I dont know.” Kenma repeated. “We weren’t close friends or anything. We weren’t even classmates.”

“But you still heard of him?” The Servant asked. “Was he famous?”

“Infamous.” Kenma corrected. 

Kuroo sat straighter. His lips pressed into a line. “I see... We should be cautious then.”

Kenma nodded in agreement. He looked back at his pastry. “...Tell me about yourself, Kuroo.” He glanced at his Servant. “It would help me understand our odds if I knew about your strengths and weaknesses.” 

Kuroo smiled playfully at him. “Heh. What weakness?” He scoffed. “My greatest strength in the battlefield is my instinct but more importantly, my speed. No matter how far you are, I will be able to get to your side in seconds. And with that,” He nodded to the Command Seals. “I’ll be even faster.” 

“That’s good to know.” Kenma hummed. “From what I’d read, you’ll have an advantage over most of the classes, except for Sabers--”

“I’ll admit, they are a formidable opponent but don’t think that I’m afraid to get up close and personal in a fight.” Kuroo grinned. “I’m not afraid to fight dirty either. Though, to be honest, I rather deal with Sabers than Archers. Archers are just a pain in the ass.” 

“Duly noted.” Kenma nodded. “What about your… Noble Phantasm? I don’t need to know it’s name, just curious of what it can do.” 

Kuroo hummed thoughtfully. “Mine is a powerful single strike. It doesn’t matter whether the enemy put up a shield or is the best in evading attacks, my spear will find it’s target. If they are in the middle of their own Noble Phantasm then, well, it could get messy. I’ll take out their attack but the force alone could damage the surrounding areas.” 

“So it’ll be best if we make sure the fight is away from the cities and neighborhoods.” Somewhere more spacious and less inhabited. This would cut down the number of casualties. 

“That would be the wisest.” Kuroo agreed. “Also it would give me room to stretch out my legs.”

Kenma rolled his eyes as he digested the information. “With your Noble Phantasm and your strengths, the odds should be in our favor for most parts.”

“More so than less.” Kuroo added. “After all, having a mage at my side equipped in the defensive arts can come in handy.” He casually dropped his gaze to the small shelf next to the bed. The obvious textbooks on defensive magic was clear for all to see. 

Kenma turned his back to Lancer. “Maybe.” With a clean hand he opened up his laptop and pulled up the direction to the Church. 

“Is that where we’re going?” Kuroo’s breath brushed against the edge of his ear. 

Kenma shivered. “Yeah.” He forcefully ignored how close his Servant was to focus on the screen. 

New Hope Church, that was their destination. Just as Akaashi had promised, it was not too far from them but the route itself was so convoluted. In order for them to get there, they had to take two trains and a bus. The platforms at the exchange were not next to each other either. So the moment when the doors opened, they needed to sprint to the next platform on the opposite wing of the station in order to catch their second train or be stuck for an hour to catch the next one. Thankfully, luck was on their side as they barely managed to leap inside before the doors closed on them. They squeezed through the small crowds then settled down into their seats. Akaash took a book from his bag and reviewed over his notes. Kenma tried to focus on his app game but instead found his eyes wandered toward the window and watched the passing scenery. 

Quickly, the sky scrapers and corporate buildings with their oversize advertisements melted away to a more luscious, expansive green environment. Dotting the landscape were large homes that nestled at the base of the mountains, away from the noise and light pollution of the bustling city. It was understandable how some would find this area a respite from the hustle and bustle from the city. 

For Kenma, he found it a bit maddening. He hated the city for the noise and the crowds. He hated the expectation that advertisement painted on the big and small screens. He hated the intense pressure to thrive to be someone he wasn’t. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t want leave that environment either. In the end, it was still his home. 

By the time they arrived at their final stopped, the sun was starting to set. Kenma stepped onto the sidewalk with Akaashi. He stretched his legs as he scanned their surroundings. Immediately, he could spot three large gated estates. Out of the three, one caught his attention. It was on the opposite side of the street from them with their gates covered in vines. The wooden placard sat at the entrance next to the speaker: Aoba Johsai.

“We should get going.” Akaashi advised as he started down the sidewalk, away from there. 

Kenma’s eyes lingered for a moment before he hurried after Akaashi. “Is Aoba Johsai the only Untouchable around here?”

“No,” Akaashi shook his head. “There’s a couple that’s scattered around here. That’s including Shiratorizawa. If you go that way,“ Akaashi gestured to their left. “To the very edge where the neighborhood ends and the forest begins, you would find Karasuno.” 

It wasn’t that Karasuno had the best view or were rich to be that close to the forest. It was more like they were the social outcast. Yes, the other Untouchables accepted them as being part of their group but only to a certain extent. Even at school, those from Karasuno are not as regarded like other Untouchables. Certainly nobody would **ever** place them on the same level as Shiratorizawa. 

But the facts was clear though...“Any of them could be a Master.”

“Or contain multiple Masters. I don’t think the Grail is that picky.” Akaashi glanced at him. “Do you?”

“I.. I don’t even know.” Kenma heaved a breath. “From those families, who do you think would have a higher chance of being pick?” 

“Aoba Johsai.” Akaashi didn’t even stuttered. “They were part of the last war and came close to winning it.”

Kenma’s eyes widened. “That’s not in any of history books.” 

“That is because it’s not confirmed. At least not to the professors’ or the clan’s likings. They don’t really want to be known as the family that lost.” Akaashi explained. “I only found out about it because the Professor Assistant was trying to impress me.” He rolled his eyes at the memory. “What he said was that Aoba Johsai should’ve won if it wasn’t for a rogue mage’s interference. The Rogue had managed to cut off the Untouchable’s command seals. After that, it was over. No winners.” 

Kenma was amazed. “So, you think they would try again.”

“Their pride is on the line. Of course they would try again. Though I do wonder who it would be…” Akaashi pondered out loud. 

“It could be anyone really.” Kenma mumbled. 

“Which means that we shouldn’t let our guard down.” Akaashi gave him a sidelong look. “I could send mine--”

“No, I got it.” Kenma tugged at the tether. _‘Kuroo?’_

_‘I’m here. What do you need?’_

_‘I need you to stand back and watch in case there’s a Master and Servant around here.’_ Kenma ordered. 

_‘You got it, Boss.’_ With that, Kuroo’s presence was no longer at Kenma’s side. . 

“It shouldn’t be much further.” Akaashi glanced to Kenma. “Are you ok?”

“Huh?” Kenma peered up at his friend. 

“Yesterday, you seemed on edge with your plan and all…” Akaashi recalled. “I was wondering if you had any thoughts about your decision?” 

Kenma frowned. “I did...” 

“And you still want to proceed with it?” Akaashi asked. 

“I-I dont know.” He turned away. “I know I wanted to but… I don’t know.” 

Akaashi stopped walking. “Do you want to go back?” 

Kenma shook his head furiously. “No. We made it this far. We might as well see what information we can get at least.” 

“All right,” Akaashi turned back around then continued on. 

It took a few minutes before they arrived at the intersection. One road continued onward and the other split off toward the hill where the Church rested upon. 

Kenma wilted at the sheer sight of it. “Do we have to climb **that**?” 

“Well, we could have my Servant take us up there but the noise and the sudden accumulation of owls might draw too much attention to us.” Akaashi crossed the intersection. “Come on. It’s not too bad.” 

No, it was so much worst. 

By the time they reach the top, Kenma was huffing and puffing. His skin was so damp with sweat that his clothes stuck to him. Muscles that he never knew he had ache in protest. He bent over, rested his hands on the top of his thighs and panted. The warm afternoon air was not helping at all. 

“Wow…” There was a hint of mirth in Akaashi’s voice. “I knew you were out of shape but I never realize how much.” 

“Shut up.” Kenma stood up and gaze ahead of them. “We’re here.” 

“Yup.” Akaashi followed his gaze.

Meters away from them stood the Church. It’s architect design was clearly influenced by it’s European counterpart with it’s gothic appearance. It was no skyscraper but the size was still impressive and no doubt could hold more than a 100 people within it’s walls and still have space. Though, today there only appeared to be one occupant on the premise. 

Kenma eyed at the single old vehicle that sat in the staff parking lot as Akaashi opened the door.

The door creaked open with a view of the large, well lit main room. As it appeared from the outside, inside felt even more expansive with rows upon rows of pews lined up to face the altar. All the light appeared to be on, but the candles were burnt out. It was a little strange to have so much artificial light when the sunlight still poured through the large stained glass windows along the walls. 

“You would think they would want to save a some electricity…” Kenma mumbled. 

“Or perhaps they could afford the excess expenses.” Akaashi scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t be surprise.” Kenma stepped away from Akaashi then down the center aisle between the pews. He doesn’t normally go to these sort of places. It’s not that he feared the Church would condemn him or burn him alive but more on the lines that he was never curious enough to venture to one. He wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. 

He took in the details all around him. From the religious depiction on the stained glass windows to the cross that stood behind the altar. The warm air around them smell stale, even metallic, as if none of the windows were opened for some time. He tugged at his shirt absently as he cross the final pew before the altar when something wet and squishy exploded beneath his feet. He jerked back, lifted his feet up to see a white-yellowish smear that settled in the grooves of his sole. His eyes drifted from the mess to the reddish, brown stain on the carpet.

“Akaashi…” Kenma started as he turned to his left to see Rider. 

Akaashi looked surprise and tensed up visibly. “Is it a Servant?”

“Maybe…” Bokuto responded as he scanned the room. “Stay close.” 

Kenma swallowed hard. “I thought the Church was supposed to be a neutral grounds.” He remarked when Akaashi and Rider came to his side. 

“That’s assuming that people are playing by the rules.” Bokuto commented as he walked onward. He stepped over the stained patch of carpet which Kenma found, then continued toward a side door. 

“What are you following?” Akaashi inquired as they trailed after the Servant. “I don’t see or feel anything here.”

“But you’re smelling it, right?” Bokuto peered over his right shoulder to the two Masters. “Like you’re in a treasury full of coins.”

The Masters nodded in unison. 

“That’s blood.” Slowly, Rider slid one of his swords from his scabbard. He rolled his shoulders absently that made his leather armor stretched. His fingers flexed around the hilt as they drew closer to the door. He shot a glanced at the two Masters and jerked his head to the side to get behind him, before he opened the door. 

In front of them was an open path lined with windows that allowed the dying light to stream in. That path, if you go straight from the doorway, led to the gardens and a larger office. Though, there was another path that split off to the left that led deeper into the building. 

Rider strode with stealth and confidence down the latter path. On either side of them were closed doors. Some marked with appropriate placards of their contents and others were blank. Rider barely paid them any mind even as his eyes wandered over them. No, instead he followed his gut and nose that took them deeper and deeper into the hall. As they pressed onward, that metallic smell grew stronger, more pungent and even putrid that Kenma had to cover his mouth.

Eventually, Rider stopped at a closed door on the left with a neat placard that read, ‘Kitchen’. Beneath the base of the door was more of the rust colored stain on the carpet. With a gesture of Rider’s hand, Akaashi and Kenma pressed against the left wall. Rider shot them one more look, his face tensed, before he kicked the door off its hinges with a loud bang. 

Immediately, the trio was assaulted by an awful stink that filled their noses so swiftly they couldn’t stop it. The wretched stench of rot was so strong that Kenma’s eyes started to water. He dug his fingers into his face, desperately trying to mask the smell but it was in vain. He could taste the rotted flesh on his tongue. 

“Urgh…” His stomach lurched and clenched almost painfully. He forced the initial convulsion down as he focussed on breathing through his mouth rather than his nose. He blinked back the tears then turned to see Rider at the open doorway. A mask of indifference had settled on the Servant’s face, unmoved by the smell. Against his better judgement, Kenma made his way to Rider then peered inside. 

There were no words that would be sufficient to describe the scene. This room--a kitchen at one point--was drenched in blood. Laid out in scattered heaps, were an assortment of bodies parts. From mangled limbs torn at the joints, to torsos whose innards was left in a tangled mess like unrolled sausages, and then finally the heads that were masked in sheer terror. Maggots writhed within their gaping wounds or wriggled beneath their skin. Their parents hovered over them like a thick black cloud and filled the room with their incessant buzzing. 

It was too much for Kenma to bear. He whipped away from the sight and bent over as the sugary breakfast passed his lips once more. A second later, another wet splash and retch joined his. Apparently, Akaashi couldn’t take it either. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve as the queasiness diminished. Trembling, he turned back to the doorway in time to see Rider stepped inside. He braced himself this time before he followed after the Servant. 

Rider didn’t even flinched at the sight. Instead, he knelt next to one of the lifeless hands. Weave between the fingers was a rosary. He turned his gaze from the cross to the bloodied stump that used to connect to an elbow. “It’s like an animal tore them apart.” He spoke sullenly. 

Akaashi finally joined them. He was paler than usual and wiped the vomit from his lips. His green eyes were duller. That stoic image that he always wore was gone but Kenma can’t blame him. Neither of them were prepared for this. 

“A Servant then?” Akaashi croaked then swallowed hard as he tried to moisten his throat. “But then what Servant could do this?” He gestured to the room but neither Kenma or Rider replied. Instead their eyes were focussed on how visible Akaashi’s breath was. “Wha--”

“Get down!” Bokuto shouted. In a flash, shards of ice shot out of the shadows. Akaashi and Kenma barely had time to throw themselves to the floor. 

“Fuck!” Akaashi hissed as one of the shards sliced the back of his shoulder. 

Kenma turned but couldn’t get up as more shards flew above their heads, sufficiently trapping them there. He flInched when he felt one of the deadly ice just glide through his hair. Carefully, he turned himself to look where they were coming from when a strangled cry spilled from his lips as one of the shards aimed for his eye. 

A pair of hands grasped his ankles and yanked him with such force that his head spun. He was pulled out of the hall and onto the gut covered kitchen floor. His mind barely had time to process everything that he almost missed Rider sprinting out of the room with both swords in hand. Akaashi raced after the Servant and nearly slipped on someone’s intestine by doing do. 

“Stay here!” he shouted to Kenma before he too disappeared into the hallway. 

Kenma stared at the gaping doorway in shock. He wanted to cry out “Stop!” or “Don’t leave me!” but the words were lodged in his throat. His mind was a blank slate. He was alone. He was alone in this room of horror with his clothes soaked in the blood and rot. 

Logic and the ability or think was out the window as instincts forced itself through, leaving him with only two options: fight or flight. 

He wanted to scream hysterically. He wanted to tear the clothes off his back. He wanted to run...Yet he could not move. He wouldn’t allow himself to do so. As much as he wanted to escape from there, he couldn’t leave Akaashi or Rider to their attacker. 

Sluggishly, numbly, he carefully climbed to his feet. He forced himself to breathe and ignored the wet, sticky sensation of his clothes against his skin. His eyes locked onto the doorway, then slowly he trekked the short distance. He dared not to look behind him. Nor did he looked down at the floor as his sneakers crushed the squirming maggots and entrails. He waved off the annoying flies and listened to the distant, muffled sounds of the crumbling walls and shattering glass. 

With a bloodied hand, he rest on the threshold next to an abnormally large shard of ice before he stepped onto the carpet. His gaze raked over damaged walls to see chunks of ice embedded there. Their presence made him more aware of the chilly air blanketed him. 

His teeth begun to chatter uncontrollably as he turned toward the path they took, back to the main pathway that would lead to the garden. As he drew closer, the sound of the fight became clearer. He sped up a little, determined but then stopped suddenly. What could he do in a match between Servants? He couldn’t do anything against Assassin or Rider.

His eyes dropped to his Command Seals. 

Lancer was an option. Lancer could helped them fight whoever it was that attacked them but they’ll lose their extra pair of eyes. They were in the Untouchable’s territory. It would be dangerous to send all their forces on one enemy, when another could be lurking around. But then what? What can he do? This Servant--whoever it was--was strong and it’s reach was far encompassing. It clearly didn’t care who sense it’s presence. It was like it wanted to show how powerful it was and didn’t care if this acted like a beacon for anyone in the vicinity. A dare to all to come and face it--

Kenma’s eyes lifted from his hand. 

To face it and it alone. Not the Master...Where was the Master?

Kenma pressed his blood covered hand against the wall. He shut his eyes and ignored the growing chill that robbed him of any warmth. 

“ _Spur_ ,” Kenma commanded. A mana pulse rippled over the compound. The first thing Kenma felt was their attacker. It’s presence so strong it nearly blanketed Rider and Akaashi. With another pulse, he forced attention away from the garden, where he knew the fight was, when he felt the another presence. It was muffled, almost indistinguishable beneath the Servant’s mana but it was there. 

He opened his eyes then turned to the path that led back to the main room of the church. He pushed off from the wall and quickly made his way for the room. He let out another pulse as he crossed the threshold. His eyes scanned the area till it rested to the far, right corner of the Church’s ceiling. 

He shoved back his fear and focussed. There was spark that bloomed into a small ember against his palm. His eyes glimmered like a dancing flame. “ _Adolebitque_!” He shouted as a fireball shot out from his hand. It slammed into the corner, then quickly devoured the support beam in seconds. There was no room to act before the ceiling, and the figure, came crashing down in a heap of dust and debris. 

Victory didn’t had time to swell in Kenma’s chest when the icy air made it hard to breathe. He whirled around and ran as shards of ice shot at him. One clipped his back and knocked him onto the ground so hard it forced the air out of his lungs. Blearily, he twisted on the ground and eyed the side door. With his remaining strength, he scrambled to his feet then made a mad dash for it. He was a foot away when a large barb of ice sprouted from the ground and blocked his exit. He fell back on his ass and scooted away as more came shot out from the ground with deadly points. 

A sharp whistle filled the air before that painful screech replaced it. Kenma turned to see a barrage of birds broke through the windows before they swooped around the attacker like a tornado. Coming after them, Rider jumped in and stood between Kenma and the other Servant. 

“Kenma!” Kenma looked away to see Akaashi shattered the ice that blocked the side door and raced to him. His friend helped him to his feet before they turned their attention on the fight. 

The last of the owls dropped from the sky, frozen solid, and shattered into pieces. Their attacker stood ahead of them. His furred cloak of ombre blue and white billowed around him. Half his face was covered in an icy mask that looked draconic. The only sign of the Servant’s contempt was the scowl on his face. He raised a gauntlet covered hand to the sky and murmured something that Kenma couldn’t hear. The air around them became colder as those deadly shards formed in midair, pointed at them. 

“Stand down if you know what’s best for you!” Shouted the Master as he came up behind the Servant. He was a young man with dark hair, strong jaw and a determined look on his face. He absently, wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. 

“Ha! I got to say, you do got a pair on you, boy.” Rider smirked. “You think we can’t handle a bit of ice.” 

The Master’s face turned somber. “You may be able to. But your friends can’t.” 

“Agh!” A sudden pain skewered Kenma’s insides. It’s icy touched raked along the pit of his stomach and spread through his veins from head to toe. The pain was indescribable. His knees buckled as he collapsed onto the ground. 

“Aahhh!” Akaashi folded onto his knees. He clawed the ground and held his midsection as he too felt the icy pain that grew inside of him. 

Rider gape at the sight. “Akaashi!” He rushed to his Master, who could only let out a cry. With gritted teeth, Rider glared at their attackers. Seething, he placed his swords onto the ground. 

“Good,” The Master spoke, a bit relieved. “I’ll show you mercy, even if you don’t deserve it.” He glanced at the Servant, Caster, who undid his spell. “Especially after how little mercy you showed to them.”

Showed to them…? What?

“What?” Kenma croaked as the pain subsided. He peered up from the floor to the Master. “What--What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” The Master said. “You know what you did to them.” 

“We didn’t!” Akaashi snarled.“We came here for answers!” 

“We didn’t know about the murders until we arrived.” Kenma replied and met the Master’s gaze. “We’re not even from these parts.” 

Caster cocked his head as he eyed them warily. Casually, he took a step but was stopped by the point of Rider’s blade in his face. “I mean no ill will,” He spoke with a gentle tone. 

“Kind of hard to believe that.” Rider bit out. 

The Servant only smiled at him before he turned his attention toward Kenma. Even through the mask, Kenma could feel Caster’s eyes on him. He couldn’t help but to shrink away from Caster’s stare. 

“Hm…” Caster looked back at his Master. “They speak the truth. They are not from here nor had they killed the Overseers.” 

Relief washed over the Master’s face before it turned apologetic. “I’m so sorry. We couldn’t be certain from the distance.” 

“So you strike first,” Akaashi eyed them warily before he let out a sigh. “You guys didn’t do it either.”

The Master nodded. “My apologies…” He began as he rake a hand through his hair. “Due to the circumstance, we cannot help but be cautious. You never know who may be a friend or foe nowadays.” A feeling that they all shared ever since this began. 

Caster returned to his Master’s side. “It wouldn't be wise to stay here.” He advised, “Our fight would’ve attracted others.” 

“We must go,” The Master agreed.

“And leave them here?” Kenma asked, “Are we just going to leave them here?” He looked at all of them. 

The Master’s features softened a little. “No,” He assured. “I’ll send a report to the Mage Association.” He promised. A small smile touched his face. “I really misjudged all of you…As an olive branch, you are welcome to join us in Karasuno.”

Kenma and Akaashi shared a look of surprise at the offer. 

“We’ll think about it.” Akaashi replied.

“Very well,” The Master nodded as Caster placed a hand on his shoulder as the two faded to nothing. 

Kenma heaved a breath and Akaashi leaned against one of the broken pews as Rider rejoined his side to help him to his feet. 

“That… was close.” Akaashi panted as he leaned against Rider for support. He grimaced a little from the ghosting pain of the attack. 

Kenma too felt it. The ice may be gone but the shock in their system was still there. Not to mention cuts and bruised they gained. He wiped the sweat from his brows before his whole body shuddered when he saw the blood. Most of it was not his own. 

“He’s right,” Rider spoke, sounding a little reluctant. “The fight probably did attract some attention.” 

“But where could we go?” Kenma asked as he looked at Akaashi and Rider, at their current state. “We can’t simply go back on the train like this.” He pointedly ignored Akaashi’s look of surprise. “I know what I’m saying may not be the right choice but we don’t really have a choice, do we?” He let out a shaky breath. “I… I think we should go to Karasuno.”

Akaashi looked like he wanted to argue but it was clear their options were few. “Call out to Lancer. Tell him to join us.” Akaashi spoked tiredly. He patted the center of Rider’s chest. “Call your pet. I don’t think we’ll be able to make it on foot like this.” 

“All right, Master.” Bokuto brought his fingers to his lips to let out another piercing whistle. A distant cry slipped into the church as a gust of wind blew through the broken windows. 

Kenma hugged himself and shivered. He closed his eyes and tugged on the tether for Lancer. 

‘ _Kuroo, lets go. _’ He called out.__

__To his surprise, Kuroo did not answer.  
__

__\---_ _

__  


__“How in the world…” Hiro stared at his sister then to the new Servant that stood next to her._ _

__“It just so happen another Master was taken out in this war and left behind this delightful Servant.” Yumiko wrapped her arms around her Servant. “I can’t simply let an opportunity like this slip away. Who knows, another Master could’ve picked him up and waste his perfectly good talents.”_ _

__An eighth Servant? Hiro frowned at his sibling before he walked up the ‘new’ Servant. Much to his chagrined, the Servant was taller than him. He was even taller than Saber… Unfortunately, he even looked better in the suit than Saber does._ _

__“What are you?” He asked curtly._ _

__The Servant, unaffected, smiled down at him. “I am from the Archer class.”_ _

__“I see,” Hiro began. “One of the knight classes then. Good. Hopefully you’ll do better than the last Archer.”_ _

__“Oh, he is **so** much better than she was” Yumiko crooned to her Servant._ _

__“You should’ve placed him at the perimeter,” Hiro turned away and started back to his office._ _

__“Oh? Already giving me orders?” She scoffed with the temperment of a petulant child._ _

__“It’s not an order but a suggestion. Did you not heard what happened at the Church?” Hiro witnessed the look of confusion on her face. “Of course you haven’t…” He rolled his eyes. “There’s been an attack. The Overseer--all of the priests that were stationed here--were killed.”_ _

__Surprise flashed across Yumiko’s pretty face. “What? That's not possible...”_ _

__“But it is.” He sounded annoyed. “Apparently, the Grail had summon a few unsavory characters in this battle. I already went ahead and sent some of our men to the ‘Treasure House’ to make sure our German visitors are taken care of. We need to be cautious and get ahead of this mess if we want Aoba Johsai to succeed.” He shot her a look of contained annoyance as if he was dealing with a five year old child rather than a grown woman. “ _Now_ , do you understand why I suggest you keep your Archer at the perimeter? His eyes would notice anything that moves in the distance.” _ _

__“I see…” She let out a insufferable sigh as she let go of Archer. She faced her beautiful Servant. “Please make sure that the estate is secure. You have my permission to shoot down anything that trespass our domain.” She brushed her fingers over his cheek._ _

__Archer cupped her hand in his and place a delicate kiss at the center of her palm. “Of course, Master.” He smiled sweetly before he disappeared._ _

__Hiro scrunched his face in disgust. “Must you be indecent with your familiar?” He chastised as they walked into his office._ _

__Indecent was accurate description of how Yumiko treated him, but it was a small price to pay. Especially, if it gets him closer to a particular Saber. Against his Master’s orders, Archer didn’t went to his post directly. Instead he followed the mana trail deeper in the lascivious gardens of the estate, out of the prying gaze of nearby Masters._ _

__Saber walked the ground in the newly tailor suit. He preferred his armor but his Master refused unless there was an attack. The only leniency he was given was to keep his sword at his side. His gray eyes was alert as ever for any sign of danger. Always a man of duty and loyalty. It was almost to the point of foolishness, at least that was what Oikawa believed. But, even as flawed as Saber was, he was still a breathtaking sight to behold._ _

__Without hesitation or care, Archer crept up behind his opponent with a devious smile. “Somethings never change,” He crooned into Saber’s ear before he danced away from the hand that almost smacked his mouth. His smile grew into a grin as he gaze upon the face that haunted his dreamless nights._ _

__In a fraction of a second, confusion flashed in Saber’s stormy eyes._ _

__“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me.” Archer scoffed with a pout. “After all those times we fought.”_ _

__“And all those times you whine about it day in and day out,” Saber retorted. “The score was what, 2 to 1?”_ _

__2 to 3, Archer wanted to argue but didn’t. He stepped closer to Saber till he was practically nose to nose with the other Servant. He stared almost longingly into those dark pools. “How can you be so sure I didn’t let you win, Iwa-chan?”_ _

__“Because you’re an ugly crier, Assikawa.” Without warning, Saber’s hand clamped down on the top his head and ruffled his styled hair out of it’s perfection. “It’s hard to forget something like that.”_ _

__“Gah!” Archer let out an indigent squawk before he swat that insolent hand away. “I am not an ugly crier!” He shot him a mock glare. “And the name is Oikawa, unless…” His sneer melted to a leer. He leaned impossibly closer to the Saber. “Unless you feel a bit frisky, then I wouldn’t mind hearing you moan ‘Tooru’~”_ _

__Iwaizumi grimaced. “Go back to your post. I’m sure you already heard the news.”_ _

__“About the Church?” Archer cocked an elegant brow. “Wonder who could’ve done it.”_ _

__“My money is on Berserker with the way they were killed.” Saber commented and began to pull away. “It was pretty gruesome.”_ _

__“Oh? Perhaps you could be right.” Oikawa hooked an arm around his waist then pulled the unresisting Saber close till there was not a breath of space between them. “You’d need to be careful then, Iwa-chan. You’re suppose to save yourself for me.” A slow smirk spread on his lips. “After all, we got a score to settle.”_ _

__Iwaizumi held his gaze as his own smirk bloomed. “Don’t sound too cocky. I didn’t lose the last match and I don’t intend to lose this one either.”_ _

__“We’ll see…” Archer trailed the tips of his fingers along the strong jawline of his opponent. “Try not to go easy on me.” His hand fell away as he let go of Saber. “We both know that you have a soft spot for me.”_ _

__“Go, you dumbass.” Iwaizumi harped without venom. The smirk had fell away to the most charming smile to grace this world._ _

__Oikawa lingered then he blew him a kiss. “As you wish,” He flitted off to the highest point of the estate. Already, a pang of longing struck the center of his chest. He forced the feeling down till it was barely a whisper. Now wasn’t the time… There were things that needed to be taken care first._ _

__“Patience…” He told himself as he watched over the quiet neighborhood._ _

__\---_ _

__  


__The Karasuno’s hospitality was more than Kenma had expected from an Untouchable. They were kind with an easy air about them. They only met a few members and already the contrast between them and other Untouchable were night and day. Caster’s Master guided them into the compound to a secluded lodging where they were given a room and warm food. Not to mention a shower stall._ _

__Kenma took his time in the shower. He nearly scrubbed his skin raw in his determination to clean all traces of the death room. By the time he was finished, his fingers were wrinkled and his whole body was nearly a cherry red hue. He closed the cut on his back before he pulled the yukata tightly around him. He stepped out of the public showers then made way to his room. He strode along the wooden boards as he let his eyes wandered the surroundings. The compound was surrounded by large trees that acted like walls that kept the outside world from peering in. Perched upon their branches, crows watched with beady black eyes. Their laughters could be heard all over the estate._ _

__His gaze fell from the trees then stopped on Caster._ _

__The Servant’s hood rested over his slender shoulders as he spoke to one of the younger members whose hair was brilliant orange and red. There was no sign of his mask. Instead his delicate, pale features practically glowed beneath the moonlight. His face was not harden or emotionless but made up of soft curves, a beauty mark and even a sweet smile. It was almost deceiving with how gentle he was with the boy--who hurried off to join another his age--was the same Servant that nearly froze both him and Akaashi alive._ _

__There was a rustle and then the sound of crunching leaves before Caster’s Master appeared. For some odd reason, there was a sheepish smile on his face that Caster could not help but to return in kind._ _

__Kenma tore his eyes away and continued onward. He couldn’t explain why he felt the need to give them their privacy but he knew that was the right thing to do. As a guest, it was the least thing he could do._ _

__He trailed along the path, passing empty rooms as he went. When he looked up he saw his friend made a beeline to him. “Akaashi.”_ _

__“Hey,” Akaashi greeted. “Feeling better?”_ _

__Kenma nodded. “Yeah. I needed that.”_ _

__“We both did.” Akaashi assured. “While you were washing up, Sawamura--Caster’s Master--and I spoke. Apparently, the recent murders made him concern. That’s why they were at the Church. They were wondering why the Church wasn’t doing anything about it. When they arrived… Well, they found the bodies. They were only a few minutes ahead of us.”_ _

__“Did they honestly thought that we were trying to hide the bodies?” Kenma could not help but ask._ _

__“Yeah,” Akaashi replied. “Wrong place, wrong time.”_ _

__“That nearly got us killed.” Kenma let out an exasperated breath. “But at least now they know the truth. Do they have any other suspects?”_ _

__“Unfortunately, no,” Akaashi shook his head. “Rider and Caster went back to the Church to see if they can find anything, but it was very minimal. Whoever done it knew what they were doing. Or at least their Servant knew what they were doing.”_ _

__“That’s…”_ _

__“Scary?” Akaashi nodded. “But at least we gain an ally.”_ _

__“Do you think they’re trustworthy?” Kenma asked._ _

__“They haven’t poison or skewered us, again.” Akaashi said. “It’s progress at least.” He looked concern. “Have you heard from Lancer?”_ _

__“No...But I know he’s still alive.” Kenma gazed down at his hand. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”_ _

__“I’m sure he would too.” Akaashi yawned. “We should try to catch some sleep while we can, yeah?”_ _

__Kenma nodded. “Goodnight, Akaashi.”_ _

__“Goodnight.” Akaashi smiled before continued his way down to his own room. Kenma watched him go before he gazed back to his hand. His brows furrowed with worry as he continued his way into his room. He tried not to think about Lancer’s whereabouts. He was alive. He knew that. He could feel it._ _

__But then why didn’t he answer him?_ _

__Kenma sighed and opened the door to his room._ _

__“You should’ve been more careful,” were the first words that greeted him._ _

__Kenma blinked to see Lancer there on the floor, next to the futon. His expression lost it’s easy going nature to something colder. His lips was set at a tight frown and his eyes practically pierced through Kenma like a spear._ _

__He ducked under his gaze as he cross the threshold. “I was being careful.” He replied as he closed the door behind him before he walked to his futon._ _

__“You didn’t call me,” Kuroo practically hissed with anger._ _

__“Rider was there. There was only one opponent and he handled it.” Kenma explained as he took a seat._ _

__“You could’ve been killed.” Kuroo stated. “You may have Rider with you but the fact is, he isn’t your Servant. His responsibility is his master and should he needs to decide he will pick his charge above all else.”_ _

__Kenma stiffened at Kuroo’s tone. He didn’t like this Kuroo. This Kuroo bothered him but he couldn’t figure out why. Carefully, he glance through the curtain his long locks._ _

__Kuroo sat straight against the wall. The frown and glare was very visible but so was the constant fidgeting. The anxious energy practically radiated off of the Servant. It wasn’t anger that Kuroo was experiencing. It was fear._ _

__Then it struck him. This was the first time Kuroo was not with him. Ever since the beginning of all of this, Kuroo had always been by his side. He had always been the one to defend Kenma. For him not be there must had hit a nerve or something. Though, one thing was for certain. Despite how it may had appeared, Kuroo didn’t trust Rider at all. He especially did not trust Rider’s ability to protect him._ _

__Kenma closed his eyes. “You said earlier that you’re never too far away from me. That you’ll be there whenever I call you.”_ _

__“Yes, you have my word on that.” Lancer’s frown softened a little bit._ _

__“And I trust you and your word.” Kenma tried to push back the heat that bloomed along the apples of his cheeks. He turned and met Lancer’s gaze. With a sharp breath, he sat taller on the futon. He held himself with all the confidence he could muster. “As your Master, please trust me and my decisions.” He sucked in a breath. “Trust me to know when is the right time to call you.”_ _

__For a moment nothing was said. Kuroo’s gaze remained on his, as if he was weighing Kenma’s words in his mind. It felt like a century passed before Kuroo broke away. He climbed to his feet with ease then walked till he stood before Kenma. Without a word, he kneeled onto one knee before he lowered his head submissively._ _

__“You have my utmost trust and my loyalty, Master.” Kuroo whispered._ _

__Kenma stared at the back of his messy hair. His fingers twitched hesitantly before they reached out and slid through the pitch black locks, comfortingly. “Kenma.” He corrected, as his fingers slid along the back of Lancer’s neck. “Not Master, just Kenma.”_ _

__Kuroo lifted head up into the touch. His eyes slid open and peered up at Kenma. A soft, small smile formed on his lips. “Of course, Kenma.”_ _

__Kenma’s heart skipped a beat. He withdrew his hand then slid beneath the blankets. He turned to his side, his back to Kuroo. “Wake me up if something happen.” He mumbled into the pillow as he desperately tried to ignore how warm his cheeks felt._ _

__“Of course.” Kuroo replied and switched off the lights. “Good night, Kenma.”_ _


End file.
